It was a new habit to Mike to smile and pull on his thumb behind his back. And he had to do it at the same time. And only when he was talking to or was near or even being looked at by Afton. Mike didn't know how he started doing it, or even why. But he did know that he started doing it when Afton officially declared that Mike would be helping out with designing robots for the Fazbear franchise.

Great. Totally what he wanted to do. But then he looked at the bright side. Bright side? Well, there was only one; now he could get closer to finding the children. Well, maybe.

Amazingly enough, learning all of this stuff was pretty easy to understand.

Afton and Michael had arrived early at one of the Fazbear locations. The car trip was long, and Michael cursed at himself internally for passing out. It would've been useful to know how to get there just in case he needed to investigate discreetly. No matter. If push came to shove, Mike would figure out the route himself.

Afton glanced at him with those icy eyes. He wore that damned purple suit, which seemed to be the only thing he wore nowadays. His dark hair was all slicked back with purpose. Michael slumped in the passenger seat, feeling like a peasant compared to his father. In the same instant, he watched his father very closely. Each blink was measured approximately between two and five seconds apart. Never the same. Afton breathed through his nose with the calmest composure Michael had ever seen in a human being before. It all frustrated him. Where were the loose ends? How could a murderer be so fucking composed all the time?

"Michael?"

"Hm?"

"Since you already know some important yet minor details about spring locks, I want to know if you remember." Afton smiled almost modestly. Mike would not be fooled. "Can you do that for me, son?"

He inwardly gagged at the "son" part. But Michael inhaled, keeping himself together. Mimicking his father.

"There are small little locks in the entirety of the suit. Each of them work together to hold back the skeleton of the animatronic." Afton looked at him. "What?"

"Surely that's not all?"

"It's all I remember," Mike said lamely. That was a blatant lie. He could recall everything about how those stupid robots functioned. Having a brother who almost got killed by one made him obsessed. But he needed to learn more, so Mike was going to thoroughly play dumb.

They exited from the car and walked along the empty driveway. Nobody else was here- sunset was just thirty minutes ago. Too early in the morning for any birthday parties. The building was cold even in the chilly December weather. Mike rubbed his hands together, wishing he'd thought to bring his gloves. Afton didn't even seem to mind the chilliness.

The robots on the stage were dormant, Heads bowed and eyes looking dead on the floor. Michael wanted to call out to them, to ask them if they were the ones who hid the bodies of the missing children inside of them. Instead he kept close to Afton's side. This annoyed him. He buried the annoyance deep down, pushing it so far out of his mind that he noticed something odd.

To the left of the main stage was another one. Pirate's Cove, the home of the infamous Foxy the Pirate. Michael expected to see the fox planted in his default centerstage position like his companions, but the curtains were drawn shut. Placed in front of the curtains was a lone sign.

"Out of order?" Michael repeated.

"Alas, yes." He didn't expect Afton to reply or to even speak. "Poor Foxy had a harddrive error and… Well it doesn't matter anymore. I'll be sending him over to the factory to see if they can figure out the problem. If they can't, I suppose it's time for him to retire."

"What happened?" Michael probed. He wanted more of the story.

"He attacked a child and bit off a part of the frontal lobe."

Michael felt his stomach drop. An animatronic biting a kid's brain off? That didn't make an ounce of sense though. "Foxy's jaw can't be large enough to do that."

Afton looked at him.

"H-his isn't larger than Freddy's. Sure, he has more teeth, and his jaw is more dislocated, but that seems almost impossible!"

"It did seem impossible, Michael," Afton said. It might've been brief, but the man shivered in his suit. "I was there after all."

Mike didn't have anything else to say. He stayed silent while they walked into the maintenance room. Animatronic parts were sprawled all around the place. He sighed.

This was going to be a long day.

He learned about spring locks, how faceplates and chest cavities worked. Freddy's music box was fragile and needed to be replaced almost weekly, and Bonnie's guitar could be calibrated with the sounds coming from his voice box. Chica's cupcake was programmed to be its own separate machine, the power source still came from Chica herself. While Michael learned, his brain hurt, and he noticed how the animatronics smelled so bad.

"Do they ever get washed?" he asked, looking deep into Bonnie's mechanics. That was an endoskeleton, and that mess of wires helped move his legs.

"Too expensive," Afton curtly replied with. And the conversation was over.

At the end of it all, Michael was prepared to go home. Pain throbbed in his skull, and even pressing hard with his palm didn't subside anything. But even the day of learning didn't seem to end. Mike's curiosity was relentless, and so he pointed out the strangest thing in the room. A giant, dusty blue and purple striped box stood in the corner, surrounded by broken robot limbs and abandoned masks. It looked extremely out of place, and no matter how hard Michael tried to push it out of his mind, it would always come back. He wondered why it mattered so much.

It was half-past twelve when the two left the building. The difference from the early morning to now was exaggerated. Children now ran all over the place, the animatronics singing and dancing their stiff old songs, and game machines dinging loudly. None of it helped Michael's daunting headache.

He muttered half-heartedly to Afton's questions. They were all to quiz him on what he learned. The more questions asked, the less Mike would respond. Afton was probably expecting more in depth answers, but Mike felt too spiteful to give him any. Eventually Afton got the point. The rest of the drive home was silent.

Twenty minutes in, Afton broke that silence. He looked at Michael while never facing away from the road.

"Too quiet." Afton's smile was small and shy. "How about we listen to some music?"

Mike shrugged. "Sure."

Afton reached over and turned on the radio. Some simple pop song filled the inside of the car, never loud enough to be above background noise. Just enough to fill the tempting silence.

He tapped on the wheel to the bass. "You know, I've been trying to find some time off. Work's been extremely busy, and I know I haven't been around a lot lately. But I'm working on that Michael." Afton's shy smile stayed. "Maybe we could get the family together and head to a diner sometime. One that's not Freddy's, obviously."

Mike shrugged again. "Sure."

Afton sighed. "Look Michael. I don't want you to keep mourning all your life over loved ones. I want you to do something useful in your life. Yes, it's painful but you need to learn how to move one from those that have died in the past. The past… It may haunt you, but you need to focus on the future."

"Sounds easier said than done," Mike mumbled.

"You're right. But with practice, you'll be able to be okay with all of the things happening around you."

This reminded Michael about those really dumb "life is good, life is great" mantras that people kept telling themselves. He really wanted to say something to all that Afton was saying, but he wisely kept his mouth shut and bit his tongue. Then, he reminded himself that he was sitting next to THE murderer himself. Honestly he was horribly terrified while angry all at once. Perhaps staying cool and mild was a genetic trait afterall.

They got home just as the snow began to fall. It began as just gentle little flakes, then quickly graduated to full-on snow. Evan and his mother greeted them in the kitchen, both enjoying a cup of hot chocolate. The heater was cranked up, making Mike take his jacket off, draping it over the back of the chair.

It was past one-'o-clock now, and with school canceled thanks to the snow, Michael decided to help decorate the tree. Evan assisted too, wanting to spend the time with his older brother. They spent the time hanging one ornament after another, clothing the tree with strings of sparkling lights. Stars and reindeers and snowflakes and delicate presents surrounded the branches of the tree.

Hours later, Evan and Mike admired their hard work together.